Triangles Are My Favorite Shape
by eternallost
Summary: A smutty one shot between Mabel and Bill. Could be read in conjunction with Starlight.


Before Mabel was placed in that bubble, she had spent a certain amount of time in Bill's pyramid. She had never told a soul of what transpired there, not even her twin brother. It was nothing so traumatic, no, quite the opposite in fact. It was because she'd seen a vulnerability there, a sort of humanity that if shared would make her whole family question whether their actions were justified in bringing an end to such a creature. She thought back on Bill a lot. She dreamt of him a lot, of what could have been. Who he could have been. After a time, the line between reality and dreams became blurred. And the dreams became more frequent on her eighteenth birthday.

"Shooting Star," A triangular Bill floated in the vast emptiness of his throne room. This was the beginning, before the human chair of her friends and townsfolk. There was no Gideon tap dancing in a cage. This was a dream she noted, looking down at her aged body. She looked back at the shape in front of her, starring out a window that revealed the town below. "am I the bad guy?"

Those were the very words he'd said before. But with the lucidity of this being a dream, and the wisdom that came with many years of reflection on what she should have said, she would not cry out again, _Of course you are!_ No. She wouldn't reinforce this negative casting. Instead her full lips curled, forming the words, "Triangles are my favorite shape."

"What?" The being turned to look at her in confusion.

"It's true, they are. Did you know that two triangles flipped atop one another make a star?"

He thought about this for a moment, "…So they are. What's your point?"

"It's just that. A triangle is a shape, not a person. So, how could you judge it by the same standard?"

In the blink of an eye the shape transformed into that of a man. He was slightly taller than her, and slender. The honeyed platinum of his curls fell in front of one eye. The other was a troubled color of coal. His iris was so dark that his pupil was not visible. As he strode towards her, his golden tail coat moved behind him in a regal manner. "How do you judge me now?" His voice was dark.

For a moment she was frozen, admiring the movement of his perfectly formed lips. She had never seen him speak before. She had never seen _him_ before.

"And by what standard should I judge you," He circled her, "if you are the shape of a star? You know what you said to me before could be considered as enticement. Two triangles atop one another…"

She swallowed as his breath clipped her ear, "Shapes should be judged as shapes. Humans by human law."

He scoffed. The shell of her ear tickled at his vibrato, "I've seen your human law." His gloved hands ghosted over the curvature of her hips, never touching, "An unjust law is a human law that is not rooted in eternal law and natural law. But all that remains eternal and natural amongst your kind," he pressed his body flush against her backside, "is this." One arm wrapped around her, tilting her jaw to expose her throat. "Carnal desire. Is that how I should judge you Mabel, by how good of a _fuck_ you are?"

Well, if this was a dream… " _Yes_ ," she whispered.

His teeth met with her throat, a prickled pain spreading as he trailed sloppy kisses down to her exposed collar.

She took a breath in at the contact. As soon as his gloved hand roughly grabbed her chest, she exhaled and gasped for more.

She was unable to still her heart after his appearance and the heat of him against her. She felt lost in a sea of something she'd never known before, something that threatened to swallow her whole. Strangely, she found that she would gladly drown in it.

As he removed the sweater from her delicate frame, she knew he could see her heart beating through her ribcage. His one eye looked her over with confusion, appraisingly. She stilled herself under him, afraid any movement would be her downfall.

His gaze grew predatory as he brought his mouth to her naked chest, licking at one nipple, while grasping the other breast firmly. She cried out, stifling herself with one hand as he continued his assault. Her knees grew weak, bringing them both to settle on the floor. This new position caused her skirt to peal upwards, revealing the cotton beneath. Consumed by his task, he continued kissing down her stomach until his face met her juncture. He paused there, inhaling the scent of her. With one swift movement, he pressed her panties to the side, bringing his mouth to taste her.

Mabel's head fell back and her eyes closed as her heart and breath quickened. One of Bill's hands held her panties to the side as he continued to tease her, his mouth on her sex and his other hand at her nipple. He alternated between sucking and licking her clit hungrily. She was unable to think, unable to remember her own name, only,

 _Triangles are my favorite shape_.

She came with an incoherent whimper. Bill pulled back after that, wiping the remains of her from his face. When she opened her eyes and returned from her euphoria, she saw him with his fly undone. He was playing with the exquisite structure that was his shaft. The black of his gloved hands contrasted nicely with the swollen pink of his flesh, he was so pale and perfect.

"Come, Shooting Star," he breathed with exertion, "I want you to judge me. To be your judge."

She crawled towards him, unable to stop herself from licking his tight sack. Her tongue trailed up the underside of him, swirling around the top as she pulled herself off to meet his face. They must have shared the same glazed, half lidded expression as she straddled him in that moment. She lowered herself, agonizingly slowly, before lifting her hips and returning down to fill herself with him.

They gasped simultaneously. She noticed then, with the exclamation from his bruised lips, that they had gone so far and yet they had not kissed. She pressed hers against him as he moaned into her. The empty space between their bodies formed a triangle.

She ground him into her, her tight form milking him for all he was worth. He saw her eager moves but he wasn't yet ready to end this. He flipped her over until she was on all fours. As he pressed into her from behind he heard a new type of cry escape her. She let it to echo again and again.

Mabel flipped over then, onto her back and spread her legs wide to accept him. His weight was heavy upon her and she relished in the feel of it. The movement of his slim hips grew faster and faster as she filled her palms with his backside, encouraging more. He somehow escaped her clutches, pulling himself out to spill on her stomach as her name fell from his lips. Bill stroked himself to the remaining waves of pleasure radiating through him. When they faded, he collapsed on the floor aside her, curled around her fragile frame.

They both noticed how cold the floor was then, in the absence of their passion. Mabel rolled her head towards her paramour, noting the throne room was now lit by candles and the sun was long gone from the sky. She watched as the firelight cast shadows over the one side of his face where she suspected he lacked an eye. She brought herself to her elbows then, to return from whence she came. Bill grabbed her wrist as she sat up. A wicked smile spread on his features as she returned to him once more. _  
_


End file.
